


Blood Red Sky

by winterstorrm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, HP: EWE, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-05
Updated: 2011-08-05
Packaged: 2017-10-22 06:22:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterstorrm/pseuds/winterstorrm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the latest bunch of bad guys seem to be targeting Draco Malfoy, it's Auror Harry Potter who gets sent to Malfoy Manor to investigate. Once there, old emotions are brought to the fore, and nothing is what it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Red Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Written for serpentinelion glompfest 2011.
> 
> Thank you to singlemomsummer for the beta.

'A tall dark figure is on the loose,  
With big sharp teeth to bite the truth,  
I steal your honour and tell you lies,  
leave you all alone in the blood red sky  
I'll leave you all alone in the blood red sky'

Harry couldn’t avoid Hermione when she was on a mission, especially not in his own home. There was little point in attempting to hide behind another party guest; but that didn't stop him from trying.

"Have you booked that appointment yet, Harry?" Hermione asked without preamble, spying Harry as he ducked behind Bill Weasley, handing him a glass of firewhisky with a wry smile, her brown eyes catching Harry’s. Escape was futile.

What need did he have for a bloody _dream therapist_ for Merlin’s sake?

Harry sighed and shook his head, "No, Hermione, I don’t think I want to dredge up the past. It’s just a dream." He was starting to wish he’d never confided in Hermione about the dreams. She’d caught him unawares one day, when he’d had no real sleep for days, and he hadn’t even had the wherewithal to lie and blame his sleepless nights on Teddy. Teddy had always slept through the night since he’d come into Harry’s care at three months old, so that excuse wasn't one that might fall off his tongue.

"Harry! The same recurring dream? For _five years_?" Hermione’s hands went to her hips and Harry knew then that he was in trouble.

He ran an unconscious hand through his ragged mop of dark hair, the one thing about himself that remained unchanged no matter how much time had passed and said, "It’s not the _same_ dream, Mione, not all the time." _Just a million different variations thereof_. He shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I appreciate that you care. I just – I need to do things in my own time, and I’m not ready to dig, not yet." He tipped his head back and emptied the contents of his glass down his throat.

Hermione’s brown eyes shone with compassion, making Harry feel guilty for being annoyed with her. "All right, I’ll let it drop for now," she conceded, leaning up to kiss Harry’s cheek. "Now, tell me about this new boyfriend of yours -"

Harry forced a smile and settled back against the kitchen sink, glancing instinctively over to where the birthday boy, Teddy, was happily being fussed over by Luna, before dredging up Ty's face and saying, "He’s blond, blue eyed, – what?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, laughing. "They’re always blond, Harry…and none of them ever last longer than a few weeks. Maybe you should go for a brunet, or redhead – I hear Charlie’s on the market again..?"

Harry didn’t mention that he’d already been on the Charlie bus, and that had not lasted too long either. Luckily, the two of them had retained their friendship. Some things were not for public consumption. It was bad enough that the _Daily Prophet_ lapped up his every move as it was. It was only a matter of time before they ran an article about Ty, speculating that he might be ‘the one’ for Harry. Harry had hoped he was. He had liked Ty a lot. He was all the things Hermione had said. He was also a great fuck. However, this last day or so, that old dissatisfied feeling was seeping through him again… As it had with every other man he had been involved with since the war.

"I like blonds," he defended with a waggle of his eyebrows, trying to lighten the mood.

"Talking of blonds," Theo came up behind Hermione and snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her back against his chest with a brief kiss on the top of her head. "Have you heard where Kingsley’s sending Harry and me on Monday?"

Harry poured himself another firewhisky and prepared to knock it right back, all thoughts of mood improvement dying a death. He didn’t want to have this conversation either.

"No, Harry hasn’t mentioned anything," Hermione said pleasantly, relaxing into Theo’s arms, a light blush crawling across her cheeks. Ordinarily Harry would have been amused by this display; both Hermione and Theo had been dancing around one another for months before finally getting together a couple of weeks ago, but Theo’s appearance and the allusion to what they had to do on Monday had a knot appearing in his stomach and a vague sense of panic assailing him. "What’s happening on Monday?"

"Draco Malfoy," Theo announced triumphantly. "Harry and I have to go to the Manor. Draco’s-"

"Theo, we shouldn’t discuss cases outside of the office," Harry warned with a nervous glance to check if anyone was listening. The party was in full swing, no one was taking any notice of the three of them hiding away in the corner of the kitchen.

"Malfoy?" Hermione’s voice rose an octave and her eyebrows shot into her hairline. "I've heard nothing of him since the end of the war. What’s he doing these days?" Even Theo, who had shared a dorm with Draco Malfoy, had had no idea what had become of the young heir since the post-war trials and Harry’s testimony until they located and raided the HQ of the Alliance for Magical Justice and found a whole wall pasted in information about Draco Malfoy’s movements over recent months. Unfortunately, the Alliance members were like ghosts and had already escaped before the Aurors got there so Harry’s team had no idea why they were so interested in Malfoy.

"Well," Theo lowered his voice for dramatic effect. "He -"

"Theo," Harry warned. "I know it’s only Hermione but -"

"Relax, I’m not talking about the case, just Draco," Theo told him. Harry sighed and downed his firewhisky in a single gulp, letting the warm glow permeate through him, alleviating the panicked feeling. "According to the file, Draco was married _during_ the war and he has a daughter. I don’t know what happened to his wife, but he’s single now, living at Malfoy Manor with his daughter and a couple of elves – Narcissa died quite suddenly last year. He’s a Potioneer; and quite a good one too – he makes a decent living from it."

A wave of unwelcome panic assailed Harry again, he had been avoiding reading the research file compiled by the Auror research team until he absolutely had to; it had sat in the in-tray taunting him and he didn’t know why he felt so afraid of it – it was only Malfoy. So, Draco Malfoy had married and was a father? Not that different to himself really. Okay, so he hadn’t been married, but he was a father in every sense of the word other than the biological one. Teddy was his son, he was Teddy’s father. That child meant everything to him.

Malfoy - and his daughter – were Teddy’s only living blood relatives. He hadn’t given it any thought before today, but maybe he owed it to Teddy to do something about that? Malfoy’s daughter would be around Teddy’s age; Teddy would love a little cousin to play with. Teddy deserved a family. He certainly wasn’t going to get any siblings from Harry unless men started having babies. They might be wizards, but even magic couldn’t change biology.

"I’m looking forward to seeing him," Theo was saying now. "We weren’t that great friends at school, but we got on well enough. It was difficult, my parents – well, the less said the better – I never wanted that lunatic in charge, but I had to play a part. I just never knew Draco was doing the same…"

Harry hung his head. Nobody had known. He himself had been guilty of assuming the worst of Malfoy, of believing that what you saw was what was real. It really had seemed that black and white.

"Daddy!" Harry was rocked on his feet as Teddy bowled into him. "Daddy – look what Aunty Luna got me!" The little boy held up what Harry could only describe as a glob of goo. Trust Luna and her tastes for the bizarre. He rolled his eyes.

"That’s… _interesting_ , Teddy. What is it?" Harry ruffled his son’s hair affectionately - currently Luna-blonde - only half listening as the little boy explained the purpose of the goo, his mind drifting to another blond altogether. One who had been the subject of his monumental and exceedingly ill-advised, crush since fourth year at Hogwarts. One who he would see for the first time on Monday since they’d been in that courtroom together nearly four years earlier. Not that Harry still held a candle for Draco Malfoy, of course he didn’t, but that didn’t stop this feeling of dread at the thought of seeing that face again, the one that had haunted his dreams every night since Dumbledore’s death. No, he was over that stupid crush, had been for years.

So why was his heart pounding deafeningly in his chest? Why was the thought of looking into those pale grey eyes again bringing him out in a cold sweat? He wished the party was over, that everyone would go home and he could lie down, try some of those meditation techniques Luna had taught him for moments like this.

This was Teddy’s party though, four years old today. His Teddy; his precious baby son. He reached down and grasped Teddy’s smaller hand and gave it a gentle tug, "We’d better go and thank Aunty Luna then, hadn’t we?" Harry looked at Hermione and Theo and mustered a smile. "No more talk of Malfoy until Monday, yeah?"

Theo looked like he wanted to argue, but Harry didn’t give him the chance, letting Teddy lead him over to the end of the large kitchen table where Luna sat with her husband of three months, Harry’s other best friend, Ron Weasley. Hopefully, half-an-hour in Ron’s company would be more than enough to cheer him up and send all thoughts of Draco-blinking-Malfoy out into the ether where they belonged.

>>

That night the dream plagued him with a vengeance.

He was running towards a blood red sky, his chest hurting from the lack of oxygen as he sprinted, desperately trying to catch up, to stop his quarry to – _what_? Sometimes in the dream he caught hold of Snape, tried to face him down for what he had done to Dumbledore, and Snape would sneer, and point his wand to Harry’s forehead. Most times, Harry was just running, running, running. He knew it was Malfoy he was running after, never really Snape, running, running, running, always just that little bit too slow to ever catch up. In the dream, Malfoy was _Draco_ , and Harry wanted to catch up to him so desperately that his waking self struggled to comprehend the reasons why. His waking self buried the question.

One long dismissed unrequited crush was no reason for the bleak empty feeling he always had when he woke, for the nothingness that could linger with him for days after a particularly vivid dream.

The reality had become entangled with his nightmares; Harry remembered giving chase and Snape flinging him to the ground and that he had been rendered immobile by some invisible force. Even knowing now that Snape had been on the right side all along, that killing Dumbledore had been his orders from the man himself, did not change the patterns of the dreams. He wanted them gone. Yet, if he addressed this, if he did as Hermione wanted and went to the therapist, if the dreams went away, then what would he have? What would they be replaced with? Maybe this dream was the lesser evil.

So, tonight, he was running past Snape, running towards Malfoy, his chest tight, his face wet with tears for Dumbledore, his heart pounding as he ran, and not just for his dead mentor, but for something else, something he couldn’t quite reach…

Harry woke up drenched in sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead with the sheets twisted around his legs. Fuck. Once this Malfoy case was over, he was going to that bloody therapist. Enough was enough.

>>

"So, Harry, when do I get to meet your son?" Ty asked carefully, obviously waiting for Harry’s defences to be down before throwing out the question. When better a time than when they were both lying sated in bed together

Harry rolled off the older man, his heart instantly heavy, chasing away the post orgasmic shine. Settling down at the blond’s side, Harry stared at the ceiling, his mind whirring. It always came down to this; if the relationship lasted longer than a few weeks they started wanting to meet Teddy. Not one single boyfriend, Charlie being the only exception because of his surname, had ever met Teddy. Harry wasn’t even sure Ty was going to make the cut yet, in fact, if this hollow cold feeling that had been creeping around his heart since yesterday was anything to go by, then the answer to that would be a resounding ‘never’.

Until a couple of days ago, Harry might have thought differently, but _something_ had changed. He didn’t know what it was, but the shift had occurred and Harry couldn’t get the old feeling back. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Not yet," he replied quietly. "It's still early days." Now he didn’t think he ever would go past 'early days', not with Ty, but he wasn’t such a bastard as he would say that to him now, not when they had just had sex. He’d give himself more time, wait for the Malfoy case to be out of the way and see how he felt then. Ty was a nice guy and he didn’t deserve to be messed around, and at least whilst he was there the nightmare would most likely stay away; it tended to be more prevalent when he slept alone, which was most of the time.

Ty frowned at the answer but said, "Okay," he snuggled down, wrapping an arm around Harry’s middle and resting his cheek against his chest. "You know, if this thing with us works out, I hope we can have more children together."

"Mmm," Harry managed, not really listening, as tried to drift off to sleep. He was still tired from the hours lying awake after his dream last night. He wished he hadn’t said he’d stay at Ty’s overnight, but Hermione had Teddy for the night and he was here now...

He let his mind wander, curiosity peaked over what he and Theo might find tomorrow when they met with Malfoy. Harry’s dick stirred and he willed it away. How could that even be possible? With all the years that had passed and everything that had happened – his crush on Draco Malfoy still simmered beneath the surface. How many times had he wanked behind the privacy of his bed curtains back in Hogwarts thinking of the snarky Slytherin? How often had he thought about waving the white flag, trying to forge a friendship with him – before sixth year, before it all turned to shit? He'd always suspected the git was up to something, yet at the same time he'd wanted to kiss him senseless.

He wondered what that might have been like.

Of course, when Malfoy had left with Snape, Harry’s priorities shifted and any feelings he’d had for him had been boxed up and shoved into a box in his head labelled ‘do not enter’. Harry’s priority had become Horcruxes and fighting, swiftly followed by making sure Teddy was cared for and loved in the wake of Andromeda’s untimely death from a brain tumour.

What would Malfoy be like now, nearly four years on from the trials? Would he have changed since Harry had given evidence? Harry had wanted to say something to Malfoy after the trial, but his head was full of the dreams and he'd bottled it – what would he have said anyway?

Hell, Malfoy must already have been a father by then, and no one had known a thing about it at the time. Before the trial there had only been the Fiendfyre, and Malfoy denying Harry to his father at Malfoy Manor. It was nearer five years since he’d last spent any time studying his arch nemesis, and five years since he'd first had the dream that now seemed to have infiltrated his subconscious to the level that Harry sometimes didn't know what was real anymore.

Why was just the thought of seeing Malfoy again, after all these years, sending him into a panic?

Harry was not looking forward to tomorrow.

>>

Draco paced the room, casting a quick Tempus to see what the time was for the tenth time in as many minutes.

They were late. If it wasn’t bad enough that the Ministry had contacted him on Friday to say that something had come up regarding his family during a recent investigation and that they were sending Aurors to guard the manor periphery, and could he strengthen his wards and lock his Floo? Yet they wouldn’t tell him why until the Aurors handling the case could see him on Monday. Oh, and could he please not leave the Manor in the meantime? Draco was fuming that they hadn’t sent someone over straight away! Instead he had been left to worry about what the threat was against them that they would need to be guarded? It had to be the Malfoy name; at the Ministry it was still mud. Now, after keeping him waiting all weekend, they couldn’t even be bothered to turn up at the allotted time. Why would they? He was just Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater. He was probably at the bottom of their list of priorities. Draco didn't care for his own sake though; this was for Caltha, if there was a threat against the family then that meant his daughter was at risk.

Draco might be of little importance to anyone, but this was his daughter, his _angel_ , when she was at risk, he wasn’t going to let anyone’s opinion of himself stop him from getting the information or help he needed.

"Master Draco, Sir," said Finky appearing in the doorway, stilling Draco’s pacing. "There are two Aurors at the front gate. Will Finky let down the visitor wards?"

Draco sucked in a deep breath. "Yes, thank you, Finky. Then show them in and bring us tea and scones."

Finky nodded and Disapparated.

Draco nervously smoothed down his trousers and straightened his tie, before glancing in the mirror above the fireplace and checking his appearance. He no longer wore his hair slicked back, and it had a tendency to curl up at the ends making him look much younger than he was, and right now, he wanted to look as in control as possible.

Moments later Finky was back. "Aurors Nott and Potter, Master Draco," she announced with a flourish, standing back to let the two Aurors enter the room.

Draco’s heart stopped, or would have done if he still believed he had one. _Potter and Nott_? Of course the bloody Ministry would send Harry Potter. Draco should have considered this; he knew Potter had gone straight into Auror training after the war. He was most likely working his way to the top already, fucking Golden Wanker that he was.

It felt like this was a waking nightmare, why did this have to happen to him? He schooled his face into the Malfoy mask of indifference and turned away from the ivy covered window he had been blindly staring at to face them.

"Welcome to my home," Draco said, the politeness almost sticking on his tongue. He looked at Theo first, his old dorm mate and friend of sorts, someone he had not known that well despite all the years sleeping in the next bed. The former Slytherin hadn’t changed much, maybe filled out a little, perhaps a little taller. Brown eyes and dark hair, reasonably good looking, slim and – smiling?

Theo held out his hand, and indeed he was smiling, "Draco, it’s good to see you, how have you been?"

Draco wanted to laugh. How had he been? He bit back a retort and grasped Theo’s hand. "Theo, what a surprise; I would never have predicted you would go into law enforcement." He forced a return smile and ignored the question about his welfare.

"No, well, I didn’t know I wanted to when I was at Hogwarts. You know how it is; Death Eater parents and Auror sons make it a little awkward at Christmas dinner." Draco noticed a brief flash of regret in his eyes before he smiled back. Theo’s parents had been killed in the war, and if they hadn’t been, they would be languishing in Azkaban like his own father had before his death three years ago.

"And, _Potter_ , welcome back," Draco forced himself to turn to the other Auror, not even bothering to pretend to smile. Merlin, he _hated_ Potter. He felt his heart thump in his chest – still beating after all – as he worked hard to maintain his façade when faced with the person he least wanted to see.

Potter paled, clearly understanding the greeting for what it was: a reminder of his last visit to the Manor, of being trapped in the dungeons listening to Granger’s screams. Never mind that Draco hated reminding of that himself, that he still had nightmares about that day. If it hurt Potter then it was worth the risk. He enjoyed watching the path of Potter’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed his anger and tried to speak.

"Malfoy," Potter rasped and cleared his throat. "It’s been a long time."

 _Not long enough_. Draco waved an elegant hand in the direction of the armchairs in front of the fireplace, indicating to his two _guests_ that they should sit. A tray of tea and scones appeared on the table as they took their seats. Draco sat down opposite, placed his hands on his knees and waited for them to help themselves to a drink.

Potter didn’t bother. He merely stared at Draco as Draco deliberately looked at Theo instead. Draco felt rather proud of himself that he felt so calm, when his insides were screaming at him to hurt Potter in some way; to draw blood.

"So, Malfoy, you must be wondering what all of this is about?" asked Potter earning himself an award for stating the bloody obvious.

Draco took a deep breath and forced himself not to snap back, keeping his voice calm as he replied, "You could say that, Potter. I’ve got Aurors guarding the Manor grounds and I have no idea why. Is it customary send in protection without telling the protected why?"

Potter lowered his lashes. Probably ashamed, Draco surmised, and so he should be. He waited, impatience seeping into every cell. "Please accept the Ministry’s apologies about that, Malfoy," Potter began. "Our main priority was to ensure your safety before we talked to you."

"Are you going to tell me what this is about or are you going to procrastinate all day?"

Potter’s blinding green eyes clashed with Draco’s and Draco fought back a gasp as his magic crawled under his skin. _No_. He was not going down that road again. Any attraction he had felt for Potter, once upon a time, was long dead.

"We’ve been investigating a group called the Alliance for Magical Justice; we know you have heard of them."

Draco’s stomach turned to lead. He nodded. "They tried to 'recruit' me. I turned them down."

"How did they try to recruit you?" Theo asked.

"They’ve got something they say I want, but as they won’t tell me what it is and I’m not missing anything that I recall, I told them they could keep it." If he didn’t miss whatever it supposedly was then he was not about to join any alliance to get it. "They sent some kid to seduce and recruit me when I was at a potions convention in Worcester and he failed on both counts."

"Why do you think they want you?" Potter asked.

"I’m afraid I didn’t stick around long enough to get into a discussion about it. All I know is that they are in favour of Muggles being under the control of Wizards." He glared at Potter. "What, Potter? Wondering why I didn’t sign up straight away? Well, I never wanted-"

"Malfoy, we don’t think that you are _involved_ with them, we know that you reported their attempts to recruit you to the Ministry - but we do think that they are still watching you. They had photographs of you that were taken just last week at the launch of the apothecary."

The lead in Draco’s stomach sank deeper. What _did_ they want with him? "So you think they are dangerous?"

"We don’t know; it could be a load of hot air, but we can't take the chance," Theo replied, apology in his eyes. "The info they have on you is mostly in the public domain, but they have clearly been watching you. Until we know what they want-"

"Were there any pictures of my daughter?" He turned his gaze to Potter as he asked, curious about his reaction to Draco having a child.

Potter’s gaze didn’t even flicker. "No, the pictures were just of you."

Draco relaxed slightly. He rarely took Caltha out of the grounds, and if there had been pictures of her that would mean they had somehow broken the wards and got onto the Manor grounds.

"What’s her name?" Potter asked curiously then, and Draco fought down his anger at Potter even asking him about his daughter.

"Caltha Elizabeth."

Potter nodded. _Nodded_.

Draco fumed. Then when Potter went on to say, "Are you _sure_ you can’t think of any reason why they would be following you?"

"I don’t _know_ , Potter! I presume that’s why you were called in. Although if I had known they would send _you_ I might have told the Ministry to stuff it and dealt with it myself."

"Haven’t changed a bit have we, Malfoy? Still a -"

"Stop it, both of you!" Theo warned, raising an eyebrow and glaring at Potter.

Draco felt the warmth of a small victory and smirked when Potter crossed his arms and sat back in his chair with a huff. "Fine," he said. "You do the talking, Theo."

Theo looked between them both and shook his head. Draco felt a brief pang of sympathy for Theo; he supposed Potter wasn’t the easiest person to work with.

"Draco, can we meet your daughter?" Theo asked, surprising Draco.

"Why? You don’t need to meet her to investigate this Alliance." He felt fear bubbling in his gut. It was one thing that Potter was _here_ in his home, invading his private space with his unwelcome presence, but letting him close enough to breathe the same air as his baby?

"In cases such as this it is standard procedure that we meet the family, regardless of their age. If we are going to be working on this case, Draco, then she will have to meet us at some point."

The argument was sound. "Fine," he agreed, although he was not happy about this development. "If you wouldn’t mind waiting here, I'll I go and fetch her down."

"Not at all," Theo said with a nod, shooting another warning glance at Potter who looked about to say something.

Draco got to his feet, and without looking at either of the Aurors, swept from the room. Once he was safely behind the closed door he allowed himself the time he needed to be himself, dropping his mask, letting himself fall back against the wall with a relieved sigh. How was he going to survive this? Not just the worry that something might happen to Caltha, but seeing Potter regularly? He closed his eyes briefly, before gathering his strength and pushing away from the wall, almost running up the stairs to his daughter’s room.

Caltha was with Millie, sitting at the table in the corner playing with the Muggle building blocks she loved whilst Millie was in the armchair by the fire reading from an old leather-bound book.

"Papa!" Caltha exclaimed as Draco entered the room, her baby features lighting up at the sight of him. "Look what I made."

Draco shot a glance to Millie that said ‘we need to talk’ and moved over to the table to admire the 'castle' his daughter was constructing. "That’s very impressive, sweetheart," he said, ruffling her dark hair affectionately and dropping a kiss on her forehead. "Papa’s got visitors downstairs who would like to meet you. Do you think you can do that for me?"

Caltha nodded seriously, "Yes, Papa."

"Good. Why don’t you go and put on your favourite dress?"

Caltha beamed and clambered out of the chair, running over to the huge wardrobe in the opposite corner of the room, yanking open the door and almost diving inside.

Draco turned to his friend and cast a quick spell to prevent Caltha from overhearing him say, "That Alliance has apparently been following me. The Aurors found photos of me at the launch last week and now they've sent Potter of all people," he said, watching Millie as she gaped. "The other is Theo Nott."

"Oh, Draco, what if -"

"Don’t tell them anything unless they ask directly. If there’s no way around it, then we stick to the agreed story, yes?"

Millie scanned his face, always able to see under the mask when it was on. "Draco-"

"Millie, I know you hate Potter as much as I do, but we don’t have a choice. I suspect it’s Potter and Nott or nobody. We’re lucky the Ministry sent anyone at all, knowing what they think of the Malfoy name."

"I was _going_ to say that this is the-"

"Papa – look!" Caltha drew both of their attention towards her as she span, arms out, the sequins on the hem of her bottle green dress sparkling.

"Sweetheart, you look so pretty," Draco said with a proud smile, turning to Millie, quickly and saying, "We’ll talk about this later."

He held out a hand for his daughter to slip her tiny hand into and led her from the room.

"Papa, who is visiting?"

"A couple of my old school friends." Well, it wasn’t _exactly_ a lie. "You remember I told you about Hogwarts?"

Caltha was very excited about the prospect of going to Hogwarts herself and chattered about it all the way down the stairs. Draco couldn't bear the thought that one day he would have to wave her off to school and only see her on holidays.

When they reached the door to the drawing room, Draco took a deep breath before pushing the door open and leading his daughter into the room. Potter and Theo were deep in conversation, stopping when they heard the door open, both turning expectantly towards Draco.

"Potter, Nott – this is Caltha. Caltha, say hello to Papa’s friends-" Draco glanced down and realised that Caltha had disappeared behind his legs. "Caltha, come on out, they won’t bite," he coaxed. When she clung tighter to his hand Draco swung her up into his arms, kissing her soft cheek before turning back to his audience.

Both Nott and Potter seemed mesmerised. Draco fought back a smile. Caltha had that effect on people. She was the most enchanting child Draco had ever met, and he didn’t just think that because she was his daughter. She had a kind of inner glow that perhaps could be attributed to her unusual parentage; even at the age of four her magic was exceptionally powerful.

She turned and buried her face in his neck. "Come on, Sweetheart. Look, this is Theo Nott. Papa used to sleep in the same room as him at Hogwarts." He felt his daughter’s conflict between wanting to hide away and wanting to look at Theo.

"Hello, Caltha," Theo said gently. "What a pretty name."

Caltha peeked from under her fringe, her grey eyes curious.

"And this is Harry Potter." The little girl’s dark head shot up at the name.

"Harry Potter who killed the bad man?" she asked, staring at Potter as though she had seen a ghost.

"Yes, I’ve told you all about him haven’t I?" Draco shot Potter a ‘so there’ look.

"Hello there, Caltha," Potter said, smiling with warm green eyes shining. "How old are you?"

"I’m _four_ ," Caltha replied proudly and started to wriggle in Draco’s arms. Draco put her back onto her feet, horrified when she walked over to Potter and touched his face. "Your eyes are green like in the story."

Potter glanced at Draco then, clearly surprised that anyone in a Malfoy's care would have been told _stories_ about him. "Yes, I take after my mummy – she was named after a flower too – her name was Lily. Do you like stories, Caltha?" She nodded, still staring at Potter, enthralled. "I’ve got a son about your age, he loves stories too."

Draco gasped. Potter had a _son_? "So, you married the Weaselette after all?" he said bitterly, unable to help himself.

"Hardly," Potter said, and through the sudden thrumming in his ears Draco could only just make out what he said next. "Ginny married Dean Thomas."

"So, who is the lucky lady?" Suddenly this information was of the utmost importance.

"I’m not married. Teddy’s your cousin, actually, the son of Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin. When your Aunt Andromeda died, Teddy came into my care and I’ve adopted him." Harry fixed him with his bright-eyed stare. "Perhaps, Caltha and Teddy could play together or something. They are family after all-"

"No!" Draco blurted, feeling himself turning red. "Er – that is-." Draco’s fists clenched when he realised that Caltha had climbed onto Potter’s lap, seemingly having taken an instant shine to him. Potter’s arm curled around her waist, holding her close like she belonged there. Draco wanted to hurl himself across the room and rip his daughter from Potter’s arms, pronounce that she was _his_ and that Potter had no right whatsoever to be manhandling his child. He tucked his arms behind his back instead.

"Whilst we’re on the subject," Theo interrupted Draco’s self destructive thoughts. He pulled out some parchment and a quill from inside his robes. "We need to know details of everyone who has access to the Manor and your schedule, anyone who might hold a grudge who could be aiding the Alliance or even be a member. Also, what about Caltha’s mother?"

Draco had known the question was inevitable, but still nausea threatened to swamp him. "Caltha doesn’t have a mother," he said quietly, staring firmly at the clawed foot of the chair Theo was sitting on rather that at the man himself. "I carried her. She has two fathers. I married Severus Snape during the war."

>>

"Well, I’ve learnt something new today," Harry joked feebly to Theo as they arrived back at their office after their morning at Malfoy Manor. Merlin, did he need a stiff drink.

"I know. Draco and Snape? I wonder if that is where he kept disappearing off to in sixth year? He must have been shagging Snape back then. We all noticed he was covered in marks in the showers, you know, _bite_ marks, but …ew… Professor _Snape_!" Theo shuddered dramatically and pulled out a chocolate frog from his desk drawer and started to munch with a contented sigh.

"Yes, well, that’s new too," Harry agreed, his mind still reeling. "But I was meaning the whole man having a baby thing. I never knew that was possible, even with magic." Even with a rare alignment of the stars combined with the compatible magical signatures of the two men involved, which was how Malfoy had explained it. A one in one-thousand chance.

He was trying not to think about Malfoy marrying _Snape_ of all people, or of how the thought of them together – and magically compatible - made his stomach hurt. Just because the man had turned out to be on the right side after all, did not make the thought of him with his hands all over Malfoy any more palatable.

Not that Harry cared of course, Malfoy could fuck whoever he liked and it was none of his business. He just didn't want to know about it, that was all.

"So, what do you think about the whole thing? Have you got any ideas why the Alliance would want Malfoy?" Theo was looking expectantly at Harry.

Harry snorted. "Where do we start? The Malfoys made many enemies during the war but these people seem to want him on their side for some reason and poor little Caltha is just caught in the middle – if Malfoy's in danger then she is too by default." His face softened as he remembered the little girl snuggling into his lap as though she had known him all her life. To think that beautiful, innocent child was the product of a relationship between Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape. She had clearly inherited Malfoy’s looks and his eyes, but her colouring must be from Snape. The thought of someone wanting to harm her sent a chill down his spine, and he was surprised how protective he felt of her based on just one meeting.

The same way he had always wanted to protect Draco back in the day, and wasn't that still embarrassing?

Harry shook his head in disgust. Whilst he had been lost in his Malfoy-centric teenage angst, the object of his obsession had been fucking the teacher.

He didn’t understand why that bothered him so much.

_This case could not be over soon enough._

Unfortunately, when they caught up with Kingsley later that day, all Harry’s hopes of avoiding Malfoy were dashed.

"I need you to take the lead on the case, Harry," Kingsley said. "I’m concerned that this could blow up into something more if we don’t play it safe and I think Malfoy could be the key – they want _him_ , we want _them_. I want you to move into the Manor for a while, in case there's a link to the war-time occupation, perhaps something lingering inside the Manor that they want. Theo can assist if need be, otherwise I want him sniffing out the Alliance's trail from the field."

"What?" groaned both Harry and Theo in duet. Theo, Harry knew, because he'd inevitably be paired up with Jarrett in Harry's absence; Jarrett being the laziest Auror in the department. Harry, because he really didn’t want to have anything more to do with Malfoy than he already had and _moving in to the Manor_ was far too close for comfort!

"Kingsley, with respect, I don’t think that Malfoy will agree to my _staying_ there."

"Draco Malfoy has already agreed, albeit reluctantly. He seems keen to get this cleared up as soon as possible; probably worried that we suspect him of something, which I'm pleased to say we don't – his record has been exemplary since the war," Kingsley countered. "Given the circumstances I don’t feel it’s safe for Draco and his daughter to leave the protective wards, and there’s plenty of room there for you to conduct your investigation."

"I can’t just up and move in, Kingsley, I’ve got Teddy to think about."

"Malfoy confirmed that Teddy’s welcome at the Manor too."

Harry had no come back.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Kingsley prompted when Harry didn’t move. "Get going!"

>>

"Mate, that’s terrible," Ron sympathised when Harry went over to see him and Luna that evening for a good rant. He absolutely _was not_ putting off going to the Manor.

Harry did not miss his lips twitching. "Ron! This is not funny."

"It is a bit," Ron said, pursing his lips to stop himself from smiling. "Look on the bright side, Harry; you might finally get a chance to see Malfoy naked."

Harry cringed, even as his cock twitched at the thought of Malfoy; acres of pale smooth skin and fine blond hair. "I do _not_ want to see Malfoy naked, what gave you that idea?"

"The fact that you were _obsessed_ with him at school. I mean, I know we all hated him, but you – you _lived_ him."

Harry looked at the floor, embarrassed. "No, I did not."

"Oh Harry," chimed Luna, walking into the sitting room carrying a blue spotted teapot whilst levitating three mismatched tea cups and saucers in front of her. "You are the light and he is the dark, together you will shine as one."

Ron sniggered, "What she said, mate." He waited until Luna had set the teapot down on the coffee table before pulling her onto his lap. "She may sound like she’s talking nonsense, mate, but it always makes sense eventually. My Luna’s never wrong."

Harry rolled his eyes, glaring at Luna with mock annoyance. It was impossible to be annoyed with her; although he wasn’t sure he would have the patience for it full-time, as Ron did.

Harry wasn’t altogether too sure that he wanted to ‘shine as one’ with Malfoy.

>>

Harry’s next stop was Ty’s. If he was going to be staying at Malfoy Manor for the foreseeable future, he probably wouldn’t have much time to spend with his boyfriend. He told Ty he was having to go away for a few days with work.

Ty took the news with a disappointed pout and said, "I can visit you there though, right?" and before Harry could open his mouth to say that it was unlikely Malfoy would allow that, Ty had dropped to his knees and was using his talented tongue to show Harry exactly how much he would miss him. Harry dropped his head back against the sofa and curled his hands in Ty’s hair, letting his lover draw his climax from him slowly, until Ty looked up at him and suddenly it wasn’t Ty’s blond hair he was threading his fingers through, it was Malfoy’s, and those eyes weren’t blue, they were ice grey.

Harry came harder than he had in years.

>>

"I hope this room is to your satisfaction," Draco told him as he opened a solid oak door to reveal an elaborately decorated and excessively enormous room that Harry thought could probably encompass his whole flat and still have room for more. Draco stepped inside and Harry followed. "There’s a smaller room off to the left for Teddy, and the bathroom is over there to the right."

Harry knew his eyes were wide at the luxury he was being offered. This was the total opposite of his previous Malfoy Manor accommodation of the dungeons.

"Thank you for letting me bring Teddy, Malfoy," Harry said pleasantly, determined that their old rivalries would stay in the past. This was about what was happening now, nothing more. Harry could do this. He could be polite and absolutely not think about what it would be like to push him down onto that huge bed that dominated his peripheral vision and kiss every inch of that pale body before finally- He coughed. Where did these visions keep coming from? "I really didn’t want to leave him with someone else when I don’t know how long I might be staying. Maybe now he and Caltha can play together and see how they get along?"

"I’m sure that can be arranged," Malfoy replied stiffly. He stepped back towards the door. "I’ll leave you to get settled in. You may join us for dinner this evening at eight-thirty. Will Teddy be arriving tonight?"

"Not tonight, no, he’s with Hermione for the evening so that I can settle in here."

"Yes, well, don’t go getting too comfortable. I’d rather you weren’t here at all, but I'm a father now, and I can't ignore something that might put my daughter at risk. I just want this over and done with and my life back."

Harry nodded; he couldn’t blame Malfoy. If someone were threatening Teddy then he would move heaven and earth to find them and bring them to justice. "I understand." He forced a smile, still trying not to look at Draco as he stood stiffly in the doorway. How could he still have this ridiculous crush on him, even after all these years? "I’ll see you at dinner."

There was a soft click as the door closed behind Malfoy, and Harry groaned quietly, walking over to the bed and face planting himself onto it. What was it about this particular blond Slytherin that he couldn’t get out of his blood? Not only did he dream about him in some form at least five out of seven nights a week, now that he was around him again, he couldn’t stop thinking about him whilst awake!

It was highly unprofessional of him to have such thoughts about someone he was supposed to be protecting, but both of them were older now and hopefully wiser – maybe they could put their old rivalries to one side and try to get on? If something then grew from that, well, Harry wouldn’t be working here forever. He fully intended to solve the case, and quickly.

Merlin, he wished he was still under the illusion that Malfoy was straight.

>>

"Say that again, Millie, because I don't think I heard you correctly," Draco said calmly, placing his tea cup on the table and trying not to glare at the woman. He suspected that he had heard her perfectly, but clutching at straws was all he had to work with.

"I said that I am going to Italy to visit Blaise and Pansy; you don't need me at the moment, you're confined to the house and you can take care of Caltha yourself," Millie's face was the picture of innocence as she reached for the teapot and she poured herself another cup of Earl Grey.

If Draco had thought he could get away with it, he would have dropped his head to the table and repeatedly banged his head against it until he was unconscious. "You're just going to go to Italy and leave me here, alone, with Potter?"

"No dear, you won't be alone if Potter's here will you?" Millie took a bite on a cream scone.

"I know what you're trying to do, Millicent, and it won't work," Draco warned. "I'm fine as I am."

"Of course you are," Millie raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow. "Nobody said you weren't fine. What you _are_ is lonely."

"I'm not lonely, Millie. I have you and Caltha. I don't need anyone else. I certainly don’t need you involving me in some very misguided matchmaking. I just want him gone."

"Well, Caltha is over the moon that her cousin Teddy will be staying for a few days, so why don't you think about your daughter and how good it will be for her to have someone of her own age to play with."

Draco felt himself flush with shame. Caltha was all he ever thought about. Of course he didn't like that she was as lonely as she had been. He'd figured that what she'd never had she'd never miss. Now, with Potter and his ward staying, Caltha would have a chance to have a friend – a cousin. It was going to be so much harder for her when they left after the case was solved.

As for Draco, he intended to see as little as possible of Potter. The company of the Saviour was the last thing he needed. Ever. No matter how good he still looked, or how just looking at him made Draco want to lick Potter’s neck.

>>

Draco found Potter in the library later that afternoon, poring over a pile of paperwork. "What exactly do you hope to find in there that will help you to find out how to catch these maniacs?"

Potter jumped at the sound of his voice. "Geez, Malfoy, why don’t you sneak up on me next time?"

"If entering a room quietly rather than slamming into it like I’m chased by a pack of Dementors like you do is a bit much for you, Potter, I can always arrange for you to stay elsewhere."

Potter stared at him and said, "Please do."

Draco bristled, "Yes, well, perhaps-" Draco crossed his arms in front of his chest, because his right hand was _twitching_ to smooth down Potter’s hair. It was just the echoes of an old memory. That was all it was. "Anyway, thanks to these Alliance nutters I've got to put up with your ugly face every day, so the sooner they're in Azkaban the better."

Potter sighed. "Why do you have to be like this, Malfoy? I thought after the war we were even – you saved me from Voldemort by refusing to identify me when I was captured, I saved you from the Fiendfyre, your Mother saved me in the forest, I testified for you both. Why can’t you just be happy with how things were left and let us start again now?"

Start again? Could Potter even hear himself? "You think we are even?" Draco spat, incredulous, breaking his own vow to himself. "After all we went through, all that we were- You can’t even bring yourself to acknowledge it! You _promised_ me that if it came down to me being forced to leave that it wouldn’t be the end, that you would come for me-" He stopped as his voice cracked and his brain caught up with to what he was saying, his breathing horribly laboured.

Potter stood up and took a couple of steps towards him, stopping to when he reached the other side of the desk. "I promised you?" he whispered. "What - when?" His face had gone pale and his brows were knitted in confusion.

Draco hadn’t wanted to cross this line; if Potter was going to ignore it and pretend it had never happened then so was he. He hated it when he lost control of himself, and he usually never did – except when he was around Potter.

"I don’t understand what you mean." Potter had taken off his glasses and was rubbing his eyes tiredly. "What _promise_?"

Potter looked so genuinely confused that Draco almost believed him; but a person didn’t just forget something like that. Even if he _had_ forgotten the promise, there was still the tiny matter of _everything else._ Draco took a step closer to Potter until they were almost touching and searched his eyes; surprised when _still_ all he saw was confusion.

"Malfoy?" Potter’s breath hitched and he licked his lips. The confusion turned into something else and Draco started when he felt the back of Potter’s knuckles graze the side of his cheek, and just like that, Draco was rooted to the spot. Potter closed the gap and kissed him.

Time stopped. It ground to a halt and then rapidly rewound five years, and Draco was standing in an almost identical position in the library at Hogwarts, after hours, leaning into Harry as the other boy cupped his arse cheeks. With one swift move Harry had reversed their positions and Draco was the one with the desk behind him as he was lifted onto it and Harry was spreading Draco’s thighs had placing himself between them, without once breaking he kiss. Draco had pulled Harry closer with his legs and thankfully he had remembered the Silencing Spell, because when Harry Vanished their clothes and had his mouth on Draco’s cock, Filch would have heard them from the other side of the castle, because for all of his proper demeanour, Draco was a moaner.

Now, back in the present, Draco heard himself moan a low contented growl as Potter slid a hand under the waistband of his trousers and grazed the tip of his too erect cock. Didn’t he have _any_ pride? The only reason he hadn’t thrown everything back in Potter’s face the moment he saw him was because he was damned if he was going to be the one to open up the past. Potter had made it more than clear that he didn’t want Draco anymore when he’d fled the Manor and left Draco there; scared and alone like he had been all that year whilst Severus had been at Hogwarts. He had thought Potter had come to get him, to keep his promise that he would always come for Draco no matter what.

It had turned out that the Saviour’s promises were worthless.

Not that Draco could have left without Caltha, but Potter hadn’t even _tried_. Draco had thought that maybe he was just getting his friends out and that now he knew where Draco was, he would come back for him, or at least try to get a message to him, but as he’d waited for _something_ his hope had eventually died. Then when it was all over, and Potter came to the trials, Draco's last inkling of hope had thought that maybe then- But Potter had shown up, done his thing, and had barely even glanced at Draco before leaving again.

That had been the day that Draco had vowed he wouldn’t ever let anyone get close to him again. Nobody would ever make him feel like he was _nothing_ again. Nothing would touch Draco Malfoy. Nothing.

Remembering that vow to himself now, Draco shoved Potter back with all of the force he could muster. "Don’t you fucking touch me!" He tried to regain his composure, even with his awareness that his cock was poking out of his trousers. "You gave up that right a long time ago!"

He turned and swept from the room in a manner that could only have been bettered by his dead husband. Severus had had dramatic exits down to a fine art.

>>

Draco sat in the chair beside his sleeping daughter’s bed, absently stroking her unruly dark hair. His head was spinning from his earlier encounter with Potter, and he hated to admit it, but he was disappointed that Potter hadn’t followed him to have it out. Surely now he couldn’t continue to ignore their shared past? They both knew it was there; it followed them around like a thundercloud waiting to burst.

Draco kissed Caltha’s forehead and sat back to study her, so overwhelmed with love for his child that sometimes he thought he might suffocate from it. He wanted everything for her; starting with a happy childhood free of fear. He was willing to move mountains to make sure she got everything he had never had.

He made his way back to his own room and ran himself a bath, sinking into it with a grateful sigh, his thoughts immediately turning back to Potter and the sheer ignorance of the man. Their relationship hadn’t been a passing fling, it had been _everything_. Draco had thought he had found his soulmate.

Immediately his mind flashed back to the kiss in the library and instantly his prick wanted in on that vision, hardening immediately. Draco sighed and began to stroke himself; this was the closest he ever got to sex in these days of his deliberate solitude – wanking to memories of himself and Potter. He fished out his particular favourite sex memory of himself and Potter, of the two of them in Draco’s bed, Potter having snuck through the Slytherin common room with his Invisibility Cloak, the two of them behind the very strongly spelled shut drapes and a powerful silencing spell in case any of his dorm mates returned. Potter was riding him, his cock hard against his flat stomach, his hands tied behind his back by Draco’s Slytherin tie so he couldn’t touch himself. Draco’s hands were clenched tightly on Potter’s hipbones as he fucked up into him.

That picture alone was enough to make Draco come into his hand.

In the aftermath of his orgasm he simply felt flat. He and Potter hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other once they had found one another. How could that have turned into nothing?

>>

Harry barely slept that night, and when he did, the dream was back; he was running so fast that his chest hurt, calling Draco’s name, _screaming_ Draco’s name – but no matter what he did, he couldn’t catch up to him and the blood red of the sky taunted him as Draco disappeared into the forest.

"Potter, wake up!" Someone had a hand on his shoulder and was shaking him awake. "Potter!" There was a flash of blond hair before his sleep addled eyes.

"Draco?" Harry mumbled. "Draco, thank Merlin!" Harry closed his hand around the arm that was shaking him and pulled the surprised figure attached to it into his arms and hugged him tight, burying his face in the familiar scented hair.

"Potter, what are you doing – get off me!"

"’ve never caught you before," Harry whispered into Draco’s neck. "Y’re always running too fast and I never catch you. _I caught you_." His voice was loaded with wonder as his eyes focused to find a very disgruntled looking Draco trying to extricate himself from his embrace and as he realised where he was the distant edge of the memory he was clinging to, a residue of the dream, slipped away like vapour.

Malfoy was successful in his attempts to wriggle out of Harry’s grasp, stepping back from the bed, his face flushed as he stared at Harry as though he had never seen him before. Harry pushed himself into a semi-sitting position, resting his weight on his elbows.

"What was that?" Malfoy demanded just as Harry was about to thank him for waking him out of the nightmare. "What did you mean, you ‘never catch me’?"

"Um-" Harry frowned, confused. "What?" He’d been having the dream and he’d been running after Draco again but- dream Draco always eluded him.

"You were calling my name in your sleep."

Fuck. "I have nightmares," Harry stated with a shrug.

Pain flashed into Malfoy’s eyes before sweeping away again to be replaced by disdain. "I’m in your _nightmares_?" He strode towards the door and his hand was on the handle before he turned back to say, "I can’t believe I _ever_ trusted you."

Malfoy's turning of the handle played out in slow motion as Harry’s brain churned, trying to grasp hold of something he needed to ask, his sleep deprived mind finding it just as Malfoy was yanking open the door.

"Malfoy – what promise?"

Malfoy stilled but didn’t turn around. He pushed the door shut again and dropped his forehead onto the solid wood, his palms pressing flat against the panelling and he exhaled deeply. "I thought you were going to avoid this forever," he said into the door.

"I don’t understand, avoid what? Malfoy-" There was something going here that was out of Harry’s reach, locked away in the corner of his mind, always taunting him with its elusiveness.

Malfoy finally turned around to face Harry, his usually cold eyes burning. "Do you remember the last thing you said to me before that night in the Astronomy Tower?"

Harry shook his head slightly, hoping that by doing so it might jog his memory because he honestly couldn’t remember. Malfoy had broken his nose on the train; Harry remembered him stamping on his fingers as he left him there beneath his Invisibility Cloak saying, ‘see you around, Potter…or not.’ After that, well, he remembered obsessing over Malfoy – his earlier crush still in place despite Malfoy’s treatment of him – but he could recall no conversation, not even their old bickering. There was nothing other than vague memories of being certain that Malfoy was up to something, but there had been no conversation.

"I- You broke my nose and left me in the carriage, If we spoke after that I don’t remember." Malfoy paled and Harry continued, "I certainly don’t remember any promise, at least not to your face – I remembering promising Ron and Hermione that I’d find out what out what you were up to that year…"

"You’re lying," Malfoy said quietly, his long fingers curled around the top of the chair that was placed just inside the door, his knuckles pure white.

Harry, suddenly feeling at a complete disadvantage in his current position, swung himself out of the bed, pulling the covers haphazardly back into place and uncomfortable with the idea of moving too close to Malfoy, he sat on the end of the bed and faced him from there.

Malfoy watched his movements with narrowed grey eyes and as Harry sat down he whispered, "Liar."

Malfoy’s face was so pale, his eyes glinting with what Harry was sure was unshed tears, and Harry _knew_ that he really believed that Harry had made him a promise of some kind. Something crept into his blood, that awful itching feeling that Harry normally associated with the fear of being caught doing something he shouldn't.

"I’m a Gryffindor. I don’t lie." Well, _that_ was a lie, but it was also a truth - yes, Harry lied when he told people that of course he’d _love_ to come to their fundraiser, or when he told Teddy that there was a Santa Claus. He never lied about anything real – about anything important.

Something told him that this was important.

He met Malfoy’s eyes head on, without flinching. Malfoy blinked, licked his lips and said, "I have to go, it’s the middle of the night." He broke eye contact and fled the room. Harry groaned, aware that he had been holding his breath. He flung himself backwards over the bed and flung an arm over his eyes. What the hell was going on?

>>

Draco paced a dent in his bedroom floor. Sleep was obviously out of the question; after tonight he wasn’t sure he’d ever sleep again. Either Potter was a bloody good liar, or he genuinely did not remember… _anything_.

For five years Draco had waited for Potter – Harry – to come for him. Yes, he’d given up all hope after the trials when it had been clear that Harry wasn’t going to even acknowledge that there had ever been anything between them; he’d closed himself off – no one was going to ever touch him again. And yet, part of him had always waited.

Where the hell did he go from here?

>>

The next day Theo arrived to stand in for Potter as the Auror detail in the house while Potter went to pick up Teddy and ‘sort out some urgent business’. They had met briefly when Draco had gone down for breakfast to find that Potter had already eaten and was on his way out just as soon as Theo turned up. The only conversation they had shared had been a brusque ‘good morning’ and Potter explaining why Theo would be taking over.

Draco was trapped in the house and unable to go to the apothecary, which made him grateful that he had employed a very capable shop manager to run the front of house. Draco had owled over his excuses and some instructions for the next few days, hopeful that the Aurors would capture these Alliance menaces so that he could get on with his life. This meant he had some time on his hands to catch up with Theo over morning tea.

He really wasn’t in the mood for small talk, his head was reeling from the realisation that Potter probably had some kind of amnesia – unless he really was faking it? - and he was at a total loss as to what to do about it – or decide if he even wanted to. He had no way of knowing when this had occurred. Potter could have taken a knock to the head just last week and suffered the amnesia, which meant he had still left Draco behind, and that changed nothing.

"So what’s it like working with Potter?" Draco asked Theo after a few minutes of compulsory ‘what everyone is doing now’ chatter. "I bet a dunderhead like him is always getting knocks on the head from dark wizards?" Draco was quite proud that he had managed to get that in so early in the conversation.

"Harry really is great; you two really need to get over this old school rivalry thing." Theo took a sip of his tea before continuing. "It’s me who’s always ending up with concussion, Harry never gets a hit. He’s so bloody _fast_."

"What, he’s never had a head injury – the bloke can barely string a sentence together!"

That earned Draco a reproachful look. "What’s with all the concern for Harry’s health, Draco? Anyone else might think you cared."

No, Draco _didn’t_ care. He had stopped caring years ago; but he needed to know.

Theo steered the conversation towards his new relationship with Hermione Granger, and Draco nearly fell off his chair when he heard that Weasel had married Luna Lovegood!

>>

Potter returned two hours later, a blue-haired Teddy Lupin attached to his hip and a small parcel wrapped in brown paper in his spare hand. Draco noted with some satisfaction that he looked tired, the dark circles under his eyes in sore need of a concealer glamour.

"Teddy, this is Draco Malfoy," Potter said to the little boy who was staring at Draco with unabashed curiosity. Potter lowered him to the ground and Teddy marched over to him and firmly held out his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mr Malfoy," he said politely and Draco couldn’t help his resulting smile. "I’m Teddy Lupin-Potter."

"Hello, Teddy." Draco took the child’s proffered hand. "Call me Draco. Has Harry told you that I’m your cousin?"

"Yes. Daddy says my mummy was your first cousin. He says you have a daughter. When can I meet her?"

Draco laughed softly. His resentment towards the child for his having the privilege of calling Potter his father evaporated. All else aside, he was the spitting image of Nymphadora. "Yes, Caltha is looking forward to you coming to stay. She’s playing in her room – would you like to meet her now?"

Teddy nodded eagerly and his hair turned into the white blond shade to match Draco's. "Yes, please!"

Draco released Teddy’s hand. "Finky!" The elf appeared.

"Yes, Master Draco."

"Would you take young Teddy here upstairs to meet Caltha?" His daughter was equally excited at Teddy’s imminent arrival and had talked of nothing else since Draco had told her about him. Draco had promised to send him straight up as soon as Potter returned. The three men watched as the excited four-year-old held the elf’s hand and was led towards the stairs.

"You all right, Harry?" Theo asked as Harry set the parcel down on the table and took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "You look like you haven’t been sleeping again."

"It’s just the nightmares, Theo," Harry replied, replacing the glasses and taking off his cloak. He draped it over the nearest chair before sitting in it. "When we’re done here, I think I’m gonna take Hermione’s advice and see that therapist."

"What’s in the parcel?" Draco’s curiosity got the better of him, it was either ask about the parcel or enquire why Potter needed a therapist.

"Oh – it’s a shrunken pensieve." Harry flushed and shifted uncomfortably. "Actually, it’s _Dumbledore’s_ pensieve." His gaze flickered to Draco before dropping again. "It’s so you can give us the memory of his encounter with that Alliance member; getting an ID on him would really help the case – at the moment they’re nothing but ghosts."

Fear assuaged Draco for a moment at the thought of someone playing around in his head before he remembered that pensieve memories were removed by the owner of the memory and that no one would be poking around in anything if he didn’t want them to.

"Theo, can you stay whilst we do it so that you can take it back to the office and get his face out there for the other Aurors to track down."

Theo nodded. "Are we going to do it now?"

"If Malfoy feels up to it, yes."

"I’m ready when you are." The sooner they did this, the sooner Theo would leave and Draco and Potter would be left alone and he could get to the bottom of whatever it was that was going on, because it was eating away at him.

>>

When Potter had viewed Draco’s memory, his face twisted as he seemed to be trying to place the face of the man in the memory. "He’s familiar, I just can’t place him."

"I don’t recognise him at all," Theo said, popping the lid back on the vial. "I’ll get this over to the office now and I’ll be in touch if we come up with anything there."

Potter nodded and said absently, "Yeah, okay."

"See you, Draco," Theo said and stepped into the fireplace.

Both Draco and Harry waited for him to go before turning to the other.

"Potter-"

"Malfoy-"

They stopped, both waiting for the other to continue, their eyes in a silent duel. Potter broke eye contact first, shoving his hand into his jeans pocket and producing another vial, this time one with liquid in. "I brought this." He placed it on the table importantly. "It’s Veritaserum. I’m going to take some and you can ask me whatever you like – I want to prove to you I wasn’t lying to you last night."

Draco’s stomach plummeted into his shoes. "No. No, I believe you." And he did; he’d always been able to read Potter, and last night was no exception, it was just that he had forgotten in the intervening years as he had tried to forget everything else about Harry Potter. "So, we were friends in sixth year? Before-" he paused and bit his lip, his eyes slivers of green beneath lowered lashes.

Draco looked at Harry then, and it was as though the something was forcing him to move, because before he was even aware of doing it, he had stepped up to Harry where he leant against the table, brushed a stray strand of hair out of his eyes and-

They were kissing as though this were the only thing left.

Draco raised a hand to thread in Potter’s hair as their mouths moved together in what felt to Draco like a long forgotten dance, each perfectly in harmony with the other.

They span, Draco backing Potter against the wall and pressing his body against his, rejoicing as he felt Potter’s arousal against his own. Potter grabbed Draco’s arse cheeks and kneaded, desperately trying to increase the friction. The blood pounded in Draco’s ears, his heartbeat deafening in his desire to get closer to Potter; so much so that neither of them heard Finky’s arrival and it was her subsequent un-phased, "Master Draco!" that had the two of them jumping apart like they were teenagers caught snogging by Filch.

"Master Draco, Finky be serving lunch soon and the children be joining you," the little elf shot Draco a reproachful glare and Disapparated.

Potter had stepped back and was straightening his rumpled clothing, his cheeks stained red. "Um-" His green eyes met Draco’s, filled with confusion and something that Draco couldn’t pin down. He hated it when that happened.

"Relax, Potter, it was just a kiss," he snapped. "Let’s go and see how the children are getting on."

>>

Harry was going to have to speak to Kinglsey and asked to be taken off the case. What had happened earlier with Malfoy- Harry had never acted as unprofessionally as he had done in that moment. When Malfoy had kissed him he’d responded automatically, desire taking control of him and propelling him into the abyss. He wanted – no – he _needed_ Malfoy; and where the hell had that need come from? Malfoy’s smell, his touch, his _kiss_ were familiar yet… Harry felt as though he was chasing embers.

As sleep completely eluded him again his mind drifted back to Malfoy. What _was_ it about the snarky git that had Harry so obsessed? Because, make no mistake – he _was_ obsessed. Always had been, and Merlin forbid, probably always would be. The thought that Malfoy had been running around during sixth year meeting up with Snape was running on a loop in his head and no matter what else he tried to replace it with, it just kept coming back.

How had Harry misplaced this promise that meant so much to Malfoy? Malfoy had been adamant that a promise had been made, yet he was reluctant to provide Harry with the details.

Harry groaned and turned over, trying to remember a time when his life hadn’t revolved around Draco Malfoy, and even with the post-war Teddy-centric years he’d just had, Malfoy had filled his dreams. Harry could honestly say that the only time he knew of that he hadn’t had the blond in in the front of his mind were from before he’d met him that day in Madame Malkin's. Even when he’d cast the final spell and ended Voldemort, one of the faces that had flashed before his eyes had been Malfoy’s.

Harry had always preferred blonds and – _fuck_ – Ty! Harry hadn’t given his boyfriend a moment’s thought since he’d arrived. Well, that kind of said it all really, didn't it? This meant that not only would Harry have to speak to Kingsley tomorrow; but he was going to have to tackle breaking it off with Ty. For Ty’s sake, the sooner he did that the better.

He wondered what Malfoy was thinking right now, did he regret that nothing more had happened between them earlier? Did he regret that it had happened at all? What was going on in his head?

Wide awake now, Harry knew he had to see him – professional boundaries be damned. He had to know about sixth year; he _needed_ to know. He sat up and padded over to the door. Malfoy’s room was at the other end of the long corridor. Slowly, he walked the length of the hallway, almost hoping to himself that he might come to his senses and take himself back to his room.

He didn’t. He closed his hand around the door handle, gently pushed it down and before he had chance to change his mind he was inside Malfoy’s moonlight bathed bedroom, leaning back against the door and staring at Malfoy’s empty bed.

Well, that was an anti-climax.

Harry glanced around the room, and only on the second disappointed sweep did he notice the the slight breeze that moved the floor length curtains and realised that the balcony door was open. Quietly he approached, easing the door open and stepping silently outside.

Malfoy was leaning against the balustrade. He was naked from the waist up, wearing just low slung pyjama bottoms and he was staring out across the Manor grounds as though searching for something, looking so _lonely_ that Harry’s heart clenched at the sad portrait he painted.

"What do you want, Potter?" Malfoy’s voice was barely discernable. He turned slowly and fixed Harry with his steely gaze. "You’ll have to be careful, sneaking into my room like this, people will talk." He laughed at his own joke but his eyes remained emotionless.

Harry stepped out of the shadows and walked over to Malfoy, "I’ve come to finish what we started." What? _That_ hadn’t been what he had intended to say, he was supposed to be asking about the lost promise!

Malfoy's eyes were wide as they followed Harry's progress towards him. Harry stopped when he was toe to toe with Malfoy and brushed a stray strand of blond off his forehead and tucked it behind his ear. Malfoy licked his lips nervously and Harry swept in and swiped his tongue over them, sighing into him when Malfoy immediately conceded control to Harry and melted into him with a groan.

"I want you," Harry said, all thoughts of his original motive lost as he felt Malfoy's heat against him. Harry pushed forward and pressed Malfoy back against the balustrade, finally stopping when he felt his erection hot and heavy against his own.

He slid his hands around Malfoy's arse and lifted him so he was sitting on the wide stone ledge and pulled his legs around his waist. Heat surrounded him, overwhelmed him, became him; the urge to _possess_ firing the blood in his veins. He broke their kiss to work his tongue down the side of Malfoy's jaw, into the pale hollow of his neck, one thumb tracing pink nipples as his other hand kept hold of Malfoy to ensure he didn't fall backwards.

"You're so perfect, Draco," Harry breathed, falling into a dreamlike wonder. "I want-"

Harry lost his train of thought when he felt Draco's shaking hands at his waistband, sliding beneath; fingers ghosting over hipbones before slipping lower, taking his pyjama bottoms with them. Draco let go and the cotton trousers dropped to the floor and Harry’s cock sprang free, standing tall against his stomach, already moist with precome. Draco's long fingers closed around it and Harry couldn't hold back a low moan.

"I want this inside me," Draco demanded. "I want you to fuck me so hard that I'll come just from that."

"If you keep talking like that, the show will be over before it's begun," Harry half-joked. He lifted him then, Draco's legs secure around his waist, and stepping out of his pyjamas, carried Draco back into the bedroom. He dropped him onto the bed, watching as Draco shunted himself backwards before climbing on top of him and straddling him. "Where's your lube?"

Draco stretched out an arm and retrieved his wand from under the pillow. "No time for that," he breathed, muttering a few words before dropping his wand and sliding his hands beneath his legs to lift them, exposing his opening to Harry, dark pink and glistening with the results of the spell. "Just fuck me – _now_."

Harry couldn't remember a time he'd ever been this turned on before. But this was Draco – the face behind his first wank, and his last – Harry shifted forward, nudged around the edges of Draco's hole and slowly began to push his way in. Draco's legs twisted around Harry and he gripped his hands on Harry's arse and huffed, "Get on with it!" and somehow pulled himself down and impaled himself.

Harry's eyes rolled back in his head at the sensation. How was he supposed to last longer than thirty seconds with such tight warm heat around his cock and an eager blond writhing beneath him?

"Gods, Harry, been so long – I can't-" Draco's babble was cut off by his tipping his head back as Harry began to thrust into him, "Annnnngh!"

Harry's control was already shot, he braced himself on his elbows over Draco and sped up, pounding furiously into him, both shocked and turned on by the cacophony of groans and filthy words of encouragement – very un-Malfoy like – escaping Draco's lips. Harry cut him off with a kiss, canting his hips to change the angle – Draco screamed into his mouth and Harry felt the sticky warmth of his release exploding between them and, Merlin, he was so close, he could _taste_ his orgasm.

"Come on, Harry, come in me," Draco encouraged, and Harry did, his release feeling like it was going to last forever.

He only wished that it could.

>>

"Fucking hell, Draco– Tell me why we didn’t do that before," Harry panted, utterly sated, his magic thrumming wildly under his skin. He was still inside Draco and he didn’t ever want to be anywhere else again.

"We have," Draco said carefully, his eyes locked on Harry’s. "We have done it before, many times actually." He took his face out of Harry’s neck and stared up at him. Harry could see nothing but the truth in those eyes.

Harry rolled off Draco, scooting over to the other side of the bed and yanking the sheet over his naked body. "What?" He could sense that this was the truth, he’d known there was something familiar about Draco’s touch, something _right_ but he couldn’t _remember_. It was there, like the fogginess of his dreams, on the edge of his consciousness, and he was reaching and reaching and there was just – nothing. "Draco – help me, please."

A thousand and one emotions chased over Draco’s face, among them hope, fear and pain. "You really don’t remember?"

Harry shook his head. "When?" He thought he knew the answer before Draco could reply. It was the only time it could have been; it was the only time of his life where bits were missing, or blurry.

"Sixth year of course," Draco said, watching Harry closely. "We-" Draco’s voice cracked and tears spilled down his pale cheeks.

Harry closed the gap between them again and pulled Draco against his chest whispering, "Tell me."

"It first happened not long after I broke your nose. Do you remember confronting me that night after the feast?"

Harry tried to sort all the images and memories in his head and he remembered that he _intended_ to go and tell Draco what for that night; he remembered leaving the dorm and armed with the Marauder’s Map, going to find Draco where he sat as a solitary dot in the seventh floor corridor.

He couldn’t remember ever getting there.

"I remember going to find you – you were alone on the map and- there’s just nothing." He slammed the heel of his hand against his forehead. " _Why_ can’t I remember?"

"I think you’ve been Obliviated." Draco took a deep breath and sat up, wriggling out of Harry's arms, wrapping his arms around his knees. "I think someone’s removed me from your memories, or more specifically, removed our…relationship."

"Why would someone do that?" _And how can we fix it?_ "Why didn't I notice I had these gaps?"

"I don’t know."

Harry didn’t know what else to say. Suddenly everything he thought he knew wasn’t what he had thought it was. Looking at Draco now, the dream made sense. Of course he was chasing Draco. His sixteen-year-old self had been in love with Draco Malfoy, and unless he was very much mistaken, he still was. Someone could reach into his head and strip out the memories, but they couldn’t take away this feeling of belonging he felt with Draco in his arms.

"I was in love with you?"

Draco’s pale face turned to his. "So you said."

What was left of Harry’s memories whirred into action. The dream sequence replaying on the back of his retinas, bathed in the red of the sky; of running, always running, and Snape, wand raised at Harry’s forehead – and then nothing but despair and loss.

"It was Snape," he said suddenly, the moment the notion cleared in his mind’s eye.

>>

Something cold and unpleasant trickled down Draco’s spine. In that one moment the last few years made sense. Severus had Obliviated Harry. What Draco couldn’t understand was _why_.

Now, here they were, years later, back in bed together like they had come full circle. They never had been able to stay apart for long; despite the stresses that year had given them – Draco's internal conflict; Harry or the Dark Lord? Trust Harry and let the Order protect him and help his mother or carry out his orders to kill Dumbledore. He'd chosen Harry, but Draco had been betrayed by someone he'd considered a friend.

When it had all gone wrong, when Crabbe had finished the job Draco hadn’t been willing to do on the vanishing cabinet and had Imperious-ed Draco to kill Dumbledore, he still hadn’t been able to do it; he’d fought so hard against that spell as Harry had taught him to. It had been working, but then the Death Eaters were there, and Dumbledore was dead; and he had had to run. His separation from Harry had begun and so had his nightmare.

"You say you don’t remember, yet you seem remarkably accepting and certain that it’s the truth."

"I’ve been looking for you for years, I just didn’t know it." Harry threaded his fingers with Draco’s. "I only ever had eyes for blonds. No one has been good enough. I’d dream of you- Draco, tell me about us."

_We were inseparable but no one else knew, not even our best friends, it was too risky. We saved each other._

Draco shook his head and scooted to the other side of the bed. What did it matter now? This lingering attraction that remained was just that; Harry would be gone again soon. He couldn’t afford to let Harry under his skin and into his life again; the pain when he left would be too much to bare a second time.

"I think you should go back to your own room now, Potter," he said coldly. "Whatever we were to one another is long dead. I don’t want this. I don’t want _you_."

He heard Harry’s intake of breath at his words, but he didn’t look at him.

"I’d prefer it if you didn’t come to my room again, and I’d rather not have a repeat of tonight if you don’t mind."

"Draco-"

"No. _My_ Harry always called me Dray. If you were still him you’d know that."

He felt the dip of the bed as Harry rolled onto his feet. He heard Harry shuck on his pyjama bottoms and then footsteps dragged to the door. Draco stared at his feet and refused to acknowledge him when he sensed his hesitation. Finally the door clicked closed behind him and Draco immediately cast a locking spell, cast a cleaning spell on the sheets and headed for his shower. He smelled like Harry fucking Potter and he hated it.

>>

When Draco went down to breakfast in the morning, there was no sign of Potter.

"Finky, where is Mr Potter this morning?" he asked the elf as he poured himself a cup of tea and indulgently watched as Caltha tried to reach for the milk for her cereal.

"Mr Potter left, Master Draco," Finky said. "Mr Nott is being here soon and the Aurors outside are keeping watch."

Draco had been right not to put any weight on what had happened last night if Potter ran the moment things got tricky! It mattered not anyway, Draco was used to being on his own. He’d been by himself since the end of the war. Severus and his parents were dead; his only regular contact was Millie who he employed to help with Caltha and the odd visit from Blaise or Pansy, which were few and far between. He wasn’t lonely, he _liked_ his own company; over the last few years he had come to rely on it.  
Sure enough, within twenty minutes Theo had arrived and Draco learnt that Potter had asked to be taken off the case and had been refused permission by Shacklebolt, although it had been agreed that Theo would stay at the Manor instead of Potter.

Draco should be pleased that Potter was out of his hair and out of his life again. Malfoys didn’t depend upon other people. So why was there a pain in his chest that felt like all the breath was being squeezed out of him? Potter had been back in his life for just a few days; and yes, during that time they had been intimate, but they hadn’t been _close_.

When Draco excused himself and went to lie down, leaving Theo playing exploding snap with Caltha, he pleaded a headache; really he just wanted to fall to pieces on his own.

>>

Harry had dropped Teddy off with Hermione and left before she had chance to throw questions at him about Draco. Hermione would have heard from Theo about them still bickering and probably Harry asking to be removed from the case; he didn’t think he would be ready for that conversation. Not after last night.

He’d _lost_ the important parts of a whole year of his life, and he hadn’t even known about it. The year when he was apparently _in love_ with Draco Malfoy – no, not just in love with - but in a relationship with. How could he have let that be taken away?

He went straight to the Ministry and was granted an audience with Kingsley, whereby he immediately told him everything; Kingsley wasn’t just his boss, he was a good friend. Kingsley had agreed that Harry could be taken off detail at the Manor and promised he would send Theo over to stay instead and Harry could follow up any leads in the field.

Harry felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders. He couldn’t have stayed under that roof for a moment longer. There were things he needed to sort out. The first was a confrontation with Ty.

>>

Ty opened the door to his apartment and flung himself into Harry’s reluctant arms, "Harry – I missed you!" Harry didn’t return the embrace and carefully tried to extricate himself from the other man.

"We need to talk," he said and Ty’s handsome face clouded over. He held open the door for Harry to enter, which he did, immediately heading for the window of the small sitting room and staring down at the rain splattered street below.

"You’re breaking up with me aren’t you?"

Maybe this would be easier than Harry had hoped. He nervously glanced around the room, eager to avoid Ty’s gaze when he gave the confirmation. He hated hurting people. His eyes landed on a photograph on the top of Ty’s muggle TV; of Ty and his younger brother – _the man from the pensieve memory!_

Instinctively Harry slid his wand from his holster, into his hand, and pointed it at Ty.

"Expelliarmus!"

He held out his hand for Ty’s wand and caught it effortlessly.

"What does the Alliance want with Draco Malfoy?" he demanded. This couldn’t be a coincidence. Harry didn’t believe _anything_ was a coincidence; he was too well-trained for that.

The hurt expression slid off Ty’s face and was replaced with a cold sneer. "My my, Harry, were you breaking up with me for Malfoy? How romantic, two old lovers reuniting after all these years apart."

Harry’s jaw dropped. "What do you know about that?"

Ty glanced at Harry’s raised wand and smirked. "I know enough."

"What do you want?"

"I only ever wanted you, Harry," Ty licked his lips and dragged his gaze along the length of Harry’s body. "It’s always been you."

"What – do – you – want?" Harry’s frustration boiled over; someone else only after him for his name after all. He should have seen it coming.

"I just told you." Innocent blue eyes stared back at him.

"Now I know you’ve just been playing me," Harry muttered a binding spell, too angry to be effective without help, and magical bindings slithered around Ty’s wrists and pulled his hands together, binding them behind his back. "I’m taking you in."

Still Ty continued to smirk. "What for, Harry? For being in _love_ with you? Because, I am, Harry – I love you."

Harry ignored the declaration, even if he wasn't now convinced he had been thoroughly played, he'd already realised where his own heart lay.

"You’re involved with the Alliance. Your _brother_ -" Harry nodded at the photograph. "- _if_ that’s who he really is, tried to recruit Draco Malfoy, and when he turned him down-" Harry faltered because he realised he didn’t actually know _why_ they had been trying so hard to get to Malfoy. They’d found the wall, evidencing that they’d been watching Malfoy, but they were still none the wiser as to why.

The Alliance were essentially Death Eaters by another name, as far as Harry was concerned; all bowing to the command of a Voldemort wannabe calling himself the 'Almighty'.

Harry shook his head. "I’m taking you in," he repeated. He’d feel so much better when he had Ty in an interrogation cell at the Ministry. He couldn’t be the one to interrogate Ty, he was too personally involved, but he fully intended to observe as someone else questioned him.

"I’d love a visit to where you work, my love," Ty cooed as Harry gripped his shoulder to Apparate. "It’s about time we spent time together outside of the bedroom."

Harry’s stomach roiled. How had he ever thought Ty might be the one?

Draco’s face flashed before his eyes and a voice in his head said, ‘He’s the one.’

>>

The owl came mid-afternoon, and Theo read the missive with wide eyes before frowning, "I’ll be damned!"

They had been playing Wizard Scrabble. Draco’s mind wasn’t on it, and Theo was thrashing him. Caltha sat on the floor near the hearth with her building bricks, and had only asked where Teddy was three times so far, and each time Draco had cursed Potter to hell for bringing the little boy into his daughter’s life only to take him away again so quickly.

"What?"

"Harry’s got one of the Alliance in custody and you’re not going to believe who it is!" Theo pushed his chair back. "Another Auror is coming to take my place here for a while; I need to go and do the interrogation as Harry can’t do it."

"Why not?"

"It’s his boyfriend Ty."

Boyfriend. Right. Of _course_ Potter would have a boyfriend. He was a catch-and-a-half. He probably had wizards queuing around the corner for him. He wanted to ask Theo for details before deciding that he didn't want to know.

Draco waited for Theo to leave and when the replacement Auror, whatever her name was, arrived Draco called Finky to watch Caltha before retreating upstairs to his room. _Boyfriend_.

It was three hours later when Theo returned with the news that the boyfriend was still in custody, but that they had been unable to pin anything on him – he denied being a member of the Alliance, and the only evidence to support that theory was a photograph of him with the man who had tried to recruit Draco.

It wasn’t a crime to be related to a criminal, if it was, Draco would have fared much worse after the war.

"Can’t you use Veritaserum?" Draco queried with a raised eyebrow.

Theo shook his head. "It’s not so easy anymore, we have to get a warrant from the Wizengamot, as the use of the serum is seen as a violation of Wizarding rights unless administered to a willing party. Harry’s working on that now. If it doesn’t come through before our forty-eight hours are up, we’ll have no choice other than to let Ty go."

"How does Potter feel about his b-boyfriend being a suspect?" Draco cringed as he stammered over the word, but Theo didn’t appear to notice.

"Used, obviously, as we suspect Ty being with him is somehow linked to your case. We just don’t know why." Theo rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his head, letting out a dry laugh, "Harry only went round to break things off and he saw the photo of Ty with his brother – remember he said the bloke looked familiar? He was rather shocked!"

Draco’s eyes widened. Potter had broken up with his boyfriend? Okay, so the boyfriend had turned out to have another agenda, but Potter hadn’t realised that until _after_ \- His Gryffindor guilt must have been eating away at him over last night.

"Think again, Draco – what could they want from you? If the Alliance had one of their members playing the part of Harry’s boyfriend then they must need him for something as well…"

Draco frowned. He was as baffled as Theo.

"I’d say it has to be Harry they want, but if that was the case, why hadn't they made a move towards him earlier; he's been a sitting duck! Why are they so interested in you? What links the two of you?" Theo was half musing to himself, and didn’t notice all of the blood leave Draco’s face as he connected the dots.

"I need to see Potter," he said urgently. "I think I might have an idea."

Theo squared his shoulders and looked put out. "You can tell me you know; Harry and I _are_ partners. I know what he knows and vice versa."

"No," Draco bit his lip, feeling suddenly nauseous. "This is something Potter needs to hear first."

Theo stared at Draco intently and for a moment Draco thought he might refuse. "All right. I’ll owl him to come over."

"Thanks," Draco said, sitting on his hands as they started to shake.

>>

Potter looked terrible; he flooed in, his hair was a messy disarray, his skin pale and sallow. Draco wanted to smooth his hair down and pull him into a tight hug. Even after Potter’s latest rejection of him – just because Draco had told him to leave, he hadn't had to listen! - Draco wanted that contact; he was a fucking idiot. Potter been back in his life for just a few days and already he’d crawled back under Draco’s skin and had burrowed a direct path to the heart he had been sure had died long ago.

"I’ll go and…read in the library," Theo said looking between Draco and Potter before backing off with a sigh, muttering under his breath, "Might as well not be bloody here."

"You have something that you can only tell _me_ , Malfoy?" Potter began warily. "Theo is-"

Draco cut in. "I think I might know what the link is."

Potter looked confused. "What link?"

"Between you and I."

"Malfoy, I thought you wanted to talk about the case! You and I – well, I know we need to talk after last night and about sixth year but I need to find something on Ty before the forty-eight hours are up or the Wizengamot come through with the warrant, otherwise he walks so-"

Draco let Potter ramble, his heart stuttering at Potter’s intimation that they needed to talk, although ‘talking’ could mean anything. "No, I _meant_ a link to why the Alliance wants both of us."

"Oh," Potter’s cheeks flushed. "Sorry. Why?"

"Er – sit down," Draco suggested, shoving his hands behind his back so Potter wouldn’t see them shaking. To lead by example, Draco perched on the edge of the formal drawing room sofa.

Potter copied and looked expectantly at Draco.

"I want you to know that I didn’t deliberately keep this from you. I didn’t know about your memory loss, I just thought you didn’t-" Draco took a deep breath. "Caltha is your daughter."

>>

Harry floundered. "I – you – I – she’s _what_?" He stared at Malfoy, looking for a sign that this was a joke, or a dream – yes, perhaps this was his imagination playing tricks on him, after all, he’d fallen for the little girl at first meeting, and he already knew he wanted _more_ with Malfoy – creating a fantasy scenario where he was Caltha’s natural father was clearly just that – fantasy.

"I said Caltha is your daughter. You are her father."

Harry blinked. Malfoy’s intense grey eyes were watching him for a reaction and this _wasn’t_ a dream, this was real. He couldn’t even remember his relationship with Malfoy, and now he was father to Malfoy's child? Until meeting with Malfoy again a few days ago, Harry hadn’t even known that Wizards could carry children! "You married Snape," he managed to say, shaking his head. His mind reeled. He'd worked out in his head, after last night's revelation, that Malfoy had probably conceived Caltha with Snape after leaving Hogwarts; a scenario that had twisted in his guts. Instead Malfoy was telling him he had _married_ another man when he was pregnant with _Harry’s_ baby.

"Yes, I did," Malfoy answered needlessly, his eyes still trained on Harry.

"Snape Obliviated me." Harry was aware they'd already established this but the words just came out of his mouth, unbidden.

"I think so, yes."

"He wanted you for himself so he erased my memory so that I wouldn’t come for you!" Why else would Snape remove their relationship from his memory?

"No – he married me to protect me. What do you think would have happened to me if Voldemort had known I was carrying Harry Potter’s child?"

Harry felt cold at the thought; it didn’t bear thinking about.

"Severus and I were both Occlumens; no one knew he wasn’t the father – not even my parents. No one else knew about _us_ so it wasn't a difficult deception for us – I just didn't know what he'd done to you until now. He protected me in more ways than I even realised."

Harry recalled his Occlumency lessons with Snape; he’d been bloody terrible at it. He was better now with his Auror training beneath his belt, but back then- he gasped as understanding dawned. "Snape knew that when I faced Voldemort, he would be able to see inside my head; he’d have used our relationship against me, against _you_." That had to be the explanation, right? "Did Snape know you were pregnant?"

Draco looked momentarily guilty as he nodded. "He did the test. I didn’t want to go to Pomfrey. I'd only found out that day; I was going to tell you but then-" He dropped his head. "Well, you know."

"Why didn't you try to contact _me_? You didn't know what Snape had done! After the war, after he died, why did you never try to tell me? I had a right to know that I was a father! All these lost years of Caltha's life – she doesn’t know who I am. Why didn't you _try_?" Somehow Harry knew his fury was irrational, yet he couldn't stop the words from spilling off his tongue. "You didn't _know_ that I had lost my memory, so why-"

"You made me a promise!" Draco burst out. "You told me you loved me and that you would always come for me! I didn't _know_ what Snape had done, and for reasons of his own that we will never know, he never told me – I just thought you didn't love me anymore. After the trial you looked right through me – can you blame me for not running after you to tell you about Caltha when I thought you were making it clear you didn't want anything to do with me?"

"I-"

"If you'd even acknowledged that there had ever been anything between us- I thought perhaps that you no longer felt the same after everything that had happened, and I was waiting for you to tell me, to apologise that your feelings had changed, or _something_ – and it would have hurt but at least I would have known. Instead you left me in this limbo, this fucking half-life without you-" Draco's voice cracked and a huge fat tear escaped and plummeted down his porcelain pale cheek.

Guilt ripped through Harry as the fury abated and he was left numb with shock from both the revelation that Caltha was his daughter and from how Draco had believed that Harry didn't want him. If only Harry had had the courage to approach Draco after the trial, if only he'd said _something_ to him instead of running scared – then they might have been reunited and Harry wouldn't have lost so many years of Caltha's life.

"I’m so sorry," Harry said, not really sure which part he was sorry for, but wanting to say it anyway. "I wish I could remember us." He didn’t want to think about what this meant, not just yet. He had a daughter. Teddy had a sister. They could be a family and… No – he couldn’t let himself back into the fantasy, because fantasies never came true.

"Obliviation can’t be reversed."

Harry sighed, his chest hurting. "I know." He’d never remember their first kiss, or the night they conceived their daughter, or what it felt like to glance over to the Slytherin table during breakfast and have Malfoy look back at him with a smile instead of sneer.

There was a tense pause as they both seemed to consider what they had lost. "There’s a reason I’m telling you now, as in today," Malfoy said. "This boyfriend of yours-"

"He’s not-"

"Something that Theo said got me thinking. He wanted me to think about what linked the two of us." He bit his lip. "Caltha is the common link. It might be nothing, but it might be the key."

"Ty knew about us," Harry said, thinking back to earlier that day. "He said it was 'romantic' that the two of us had found each other again."

"How could he know? _You_ didn’t know!"

"I don’t know, but he did."

"What does Ty do for a living?" Malfoy stood and began to pace.

"He’s a healer," Harry squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember, guiltily realising that he hadn’t taken that much interest in Ty's career. "He did his training and since then he’s been studying haematology so he can specialise in healing blood diseases."

Malfoy huffed. "He sounds like a real paragon of virtue; I can’t imagine why you broke it off with him." He crossed his arms across his chest and glared at Harry.

Harry was struggling to articulate a reply when the house elf appeared in the doorway, "Master Draco, Mistress Caltha wanted to see you." Caltha’s dark head appeared from behind the elf.

Harry presumed that Malfoy must have nodded or acknowledged the elf in some way, but he hadn’t noticed because his attention was riveted on his daughter. Merlin, but it was obvious now that he knew he was her father, so much so that he almost felt a fool for not noticing before – but then he hadn’t known he’d even slept with Malfoy then had he? Her hair was wild, like his, and her skin tone was all Potter, as was the determined set to her jaw.

"Hello, Caltha," he said gently. "Have you been having fun today?"

The little girl nodded. "Me and Finky cooked biscuits." Her face lit up at the memory. "Is Teddy coming?"

Harry shook his head. "Not tonight, but maybe he’ll be back tomorrow."

"It’s someone’s bedtime," Malfoy said fondly. "Would you like Harry to read you a bedtime story, Caltha?"

Harry’s head snapped to Malfoy, who diverted his attention from their daughter to look at Harry, his grey eyes almost pleading. Harry couldn’t help smiling back.

He really should get back to the Ministry and put the pressure on for this warrant, but he was damned if he was going to do that before reading his daughter a story for the first time.

>>

Draco barely slept. All he could think about was Harry, with Caltha on his lap, reading her a story, and his daughter’s face as she gazed adoringly up at him. Harry had left after that as Teddy was with Hermione and he’d wanted to check in on him before returning to the Ministry to question Ty again.

Even though Ty was in custody; Draco hated the thought of Harry going to see him. What if he still had feelings for him?

When Harry had read Caltha that story, for the first time since he couldn’t remember when, Draco had felt contented, like he was _home_ – which was ridiculous because he _was_ home; the Manor had always been his safe place, except during the Voldemort months, but that hadn’t been the house’s fault. He’d felt hope bubbling in the pit of his stomach. Harry knew it all now, he knew about his past with Draco, he knew he was a father…

When he finally gave up his attempts at sleep and went downstairs, he found Theo sitting at the dining table with a pot of tea. Draco had actually forgotten that his old dorm mate was staying in Harry’s stead.

"Harry just fire-called," he said, looking up from his staring at the table at Draco’s entrance. "They got the warrant."

Draco sighed in relief. He wanted this enforced confinement over with, he wanted his life back, and he wanted the chance to get to know Harry again.

He wanted that more than anything.

>>

Harry’s owl arrived a few hours later, stating that all known members of the Alliance had been arrested and that Draco was free to leave the Manor should he chose to do so. It then went on to say that Harry would visit soon to tell Draco what had happened.

Theo had headed back to the Ministry to debrief, suggesting before he left that he would like Draco and Caltha to come for dinner with himself and Granger. Draco had promised that he would like that; if this experience had taught him anything, it was that he needed to try to regain his life. He couldn’t hide away at the Manor or at work forever, and he couldn’t do that to his daughter either.

He supposed he could be grateful to the Alliance for that if nothing else.

It was late when Harry arrived, the exhaustion showing clearly on his face in the form of dark circles and still pale skin.

"Thanks for waiting up," he said as he tumbled out of the Floo to face Draco who was trying to look as though he hadn’t been sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace all evening for Harry’s arrival. "You needn’t have; I’d have slept in the room I was using and filled you in tomorrow. Teddy’s still at Hermione’s so-"

"Why were they after us?" Draco had to know, it was eating him up. They might be safe now, but theoretically there was always going to be someone with a grudge after an ex-Death Eater, even if he had been a reluctant participant.

Harry sat down at the other end of the sofa and placed a hand on each knee. "They weren’t after you. They wanted me."

"I don’t understand."

"The plan was to take control of me. They knew – about Caltha being mine – they _knew_. They wanted her blood; that’s why they wanted you, to get to her – to get to me." Harry ran a shaking hand through his dark hair and turn to fix Draco with tear filled green eyes. "Why can’t people leave me the fuck alone?"

"Why?" Draco wanted to scoot down the sofa and wrap an arm around Harry, comfort him somehow, but he didn’t know how that would go down, so instead he remained where he was.

"Why do you think? Because Ty was a on a power trip and thought he deserved to rule the Wizarding world." Harry laughed coldly. "Do you know, his real name wasn’t even Ty – he's Muggle-born and his name is Brian Smith! He got the name ‘Ty’ because he insisted his followers call him ‘Almighty’!"

"Your taste in men is appalling," Draco said bitterly, without thinking and regretting it instantly when Harry winced. He switched the subject back to topic with a pang of guilt. "Why did they need her blood?"

"Ty and his cronies were planning on using the Cruorgeni spell – the blood of the father – very dark magic; if they got their hands on as much as a drop of Caltha’s blood they could brew a potion that could control me, and then through me, they planned to take over the Ministry. It’s undetectable, unlike Imperious – and apparently they knew I could throw that off anyway!"

Draco went cold at the thought of anyone harming his daughter; and of anyone trying to hurt Harry.

"They overestimate my influence! Do they think that just because of my name they can control me and that the Minister and – well - _everyone_ would fall at my feet?"

"I rather think they want you because of your power; you’re the most powerful wizard alive today, surely you know that? If they could harness that power and your name for themselves and with your position in the Ministry and your standing in society – I think it could’ve worked."

"There are only five members of the Alliance! They’ve led us a merry dance, we thought there were getting on for a hundred – they’ve been very good with the propaganda." Harry sighed and stood up, pacing the wooden floor with an angry stride. "I’m sorry you got dragged into this, Draco," he said. "I’m sorry about everything."

"None of this is your fault."

"I should have known Ty wasn’t all he said he was – I’m an Auror for Merlin’s sake! He was with me so that when the plan was successful, no one would question his sudden appearance in my life. And why did I never do anything about the dreams? I might have worked out what it all meant if I’d only listened to Hermione, she’s been telling me for years to do something about them and I refused!" As he spoke, anything in the room that wasn’t nailed down began to hover in the air, rising as Harry’s temper rose. "Why can’t I just have a normal life? Must everyone have a hidden agenda?"

"Harry-"

Harry rummaged inside his robes and came out with a dog eared envelope which he held aloft as he said, "Once Ty told us everything under Veritaserum, and we were able to locate their new HQ - I found this amongst his possessions." Harry waggled the letter at Draco, as if Draco knew what it contained. "One of the Alliance was Archibald Peterson; he's an ex-Auror who was there when they took Snape’s body away, he must have stolen it from his corpse."

Draco reached out and placed a stilling hand on Harry’s arm and took the envelope from his shaking hand. "Have you read it?"

Harry swallowed and shook his head. "It’s addressed to you."

"Do you want me to read it?" Draco had an inkling what the letter might contain but with it being from Severus, he also knew he could be wrong – Severus had never been predictable.

Harry bit his lip and nodded as his magic calmed down and the levitated items replaced themselves back where they had come from.

Draco slid a pale finger into the envelope and eased out the letter.

Slowly he scanned the fading ink, not even thinking to read it out loud for Harry’s benefit. "You were right," he managed eventually, his throat thick with tears. "It was Severus who wiped your memory, here -"

Draco offered the letter over to Harry and sat down again, his legs unsteady beneath him. All this time! Severus had watched Draco’s pain at Harry’s continued lack of contact and had said nothing! Yet – his reasoning was sound.

Draco could never hate Severus for trying to protect him and his unborn child, but he couldn't help wishing he had told Draco the truth about what he'd done to Harry.

>>

Harry took the letter from Draco and read it slowly. Snape’s spidery scrawl explained that he intended to tell Draco this once Voldemort was dead, whether or not Harry had survived. It was as they had thought; he’d Obliviated Harry to protect Draco and the baby, and to protect Harry, who would have been at risk if he had gone after Draco, and had one of the death eaters reached into Harry’s head and seen this, they could have used Draco or the baby as leverage. He’d married Draco to keep Voldemort from being suspicious.

_  
_

> _‘I know that Potter’s apparent defection broke your heart, Draco, but I can’t be sorry that it kept you alive. If Potter had come after you – and I believe he would have – then I believe you would have been in danger, and I couldn’t allow that to happen, I love you as if you were my own son. Potter's memories of your relationship have been removed and he will only remember a vague notion of you during the time in question. If you find each other again, I hope you will think well of me.'_

 _  
_

Snape was right. He had kept Draco and Caltha safe where Harry would have led them to certain death!

If Harry hadn’t been deprived of his memories, then he _would_ have gone after Draco; and probably got him and their daughter killed. Merlin, he'd been a bloody liability back then, and nothing had changed. People still wanted a piece of him; Draco and Caltha had been caught in the middle again. Well, no more. The best way to keep them both safe would be to stay out of their lives. It wasn't as if Draco wanted him around anyway, he'd made that perfectly clear last night.

"He did the right thing," Harry said hoarsely. "I would have gotten us all killed trying to get to you." He couldn’t look at Draco. It hurt too much.

Draco reached out and took Harry’s hand. "What’s done is done," he said soothingly. "We can-"

Harry snatched his hand away, Draco's touch burned through him, his magic reacting with pure need to get closer to him. "I think it’s best if we continue to let people believe that Caltha is Snape’s daughter," he said, cradling his thrumming hand. "Theo has taken measures to ensure that none of the Alliance recalls the truth about her parentage once their trial is over."

"But-"

"I think it’s best if I don’t have contact with her," Harry continued, staring unseeingly at the Floo, his heart breaking as he faced his future without Draco and his daughter. "If you need money or anything, I’ll always help you, but I can’t be in her life."

He ignored the way every part of him _hurt_ at Draco’s pained gasp.

"So, Theo will be over tomorrow to tie up any paperwork regarding the case, and we’ll obviously keep you informed of the outcome of the trial, which should take place in the next few days." He stepped towards the Floo. "Goodbye, Draco and good luck."

He had a handful of powder and had tumbled into his own house before he had time to change his mind. He crawled across the floor to his sofa and levered himself onto it. His heart was racing, his palms hurt, and every instinct he possessed was shouting at him to go back to Malfoy Manor, take Draco in his arms and never let go.

How could he though, when he’d already hurt him so much? He couldn’t blame Draco for hating him. He hated himself.

>>

"I don’t hate you, Potter," Draco said, startling Harry by following him through the Floo. He wasn't going to let him go so easily this time, not when he could do something to prevent him from leaving, unlike before. "I thought I did once; but now we know the truth, how could I? _You didn’t know_. Even the Chosen One can't throw off Obliviation!"

"Did you just read my mind?" Harry accused as he jumped to his feet. His shoulders slumped. "Of course you did, thus proving Snape right – Voldemort would have had this out of my head as soon as he looked at me! Not you though, you always were good at all the things I was terrible at – that I do remember!"

" _No_ – Harry – I can tell exactly what you're thinking from the expression on your face. I always could!"

"Oh," Harry ducked his head and mumbling, "Sorry."

"If another crazed mad man comes for us, we'll face him _together_ – so stop being so ridiculously self-sacrificing and noble!" Draco said determinedly, crowding Harry’s space and wrapping a firm hand around the back of his neck. "You’re not leaving me again. I won’t let you." He kissed him then, and Harry didn’t resist, opening for him, as Draco aligned their bodies together.

Harry pulled back and stared intently into Draco's eyes, "There's always going to be someone who thinks that the key to power is through either defeating or controlling me. Do you want to live like that?"

"If we don't, Harry, then Voldemort might as well have won, because he's still controlling your life, even from beyond the grave." Draco heard his own voice trembling as he spoke. "Give us another chance. If not for me, for your _daughter_." _Do it for us._

Harry rested his head against Draco's forehead, his hands gripping hipbones tightly as he took a deep breath. Draco held his own breath. His whole future depended upon what happened next.

Harry nibbled his lower lip and closed his eyes. He nodded his head. Draco exhaled and wrapped his arms tightly around Harry, burying his face in his neck. He'd never thought this day could ever come; the day Harry came back to him.

"We’ve got the future, Harry – if you want us?" Draco lifted his head to look down at Harry. "And don’t ever repeat that rubbish about being a liability and a risk to us. I’d rather live life with a little risk with you than be without you again."

Harry’s eyes filled with tears. "Of course I want you both. But Teddy and I come as a package. He might not be my blood, but he is my son."

"I know that, Harry, and I’m looking forward to getting to know him – and Caltha will be ecstatic that she’s getting a brother to boss around."

>>

  


  


**Epilogue**  


The room was darkened; the only light came from the candles that Draco had placed on the mantle. He wanted this to be as relaxing as possible. "Are you ready?"

Harry nodded and swallowed nervously. "As I'll ever be," he smiled and gripped Draco's hand tighter. "I have to see it sometime."

Over the last few months they had used the pensieve to allow Harry to view the memories that Snape had taken from him. Every important memory of their lost time together had been retrieved from Draco's mind and viewed, in mostly chronological order.

The results had been mixed: frustration when they had argued, joy when they had been laughing together – happy just to be in one another's company. Not to forget when they relived their teenage intimate moments, and this never failed to lead on to an adult intimate encounter – or three. Harry's favourite memory was their first time – which had been a wandless fistfight that had turned into the terrible realisation that they were both having a certain _reaction_ – and their eyes had met, their cheeks had flushed pink and- It was Harry who kissed Draco first, but Draco had not tried to resist. One kiss turned into many sloppy kisses, which became desperate frotting, resulting in them both coming in their trousers.

To Harry that was the hottest thing ever.

Harry had fled after that first time and as Draco stared at the spot where he had just been standing he'd said, "That was interesting."

Harry had laughed so hard he'd cried after watching that.

Tonight was not the time for reliving the happy times. Tonight was for the final memory.

The room was set up for them to watch the first scene; Caltha and Teddy were fast asleep at their Aunty Luna and Uncle Ron's, both of them completely inseparable, each refusing to go anywhere without the other.

The pensieve was in pride of place in the centre of the room. Harry and Draco went into the memory together with their fingers tightly entwined. Harry was plummeted immediately into the Astronomy Tower. Seeing events from Draco's point-of-view still felt odd and this one especially as this was the night he'd dreamt of so often.

Draco was shaking; his wand outstretched towards Dumbledore, and Harry could see he wasn't himself; that he was trying to fight the curse that was forcing him to go through with the orders from Voldemort that he had long since sworn to Harry that he wouldn't follow. It was working, but the effort was making Draco weak, and it was then that Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters made their entrance, having been let through the vanishing cabinet by Crabbe.

The memory became blurry with confusion as Draco must have panicked, still locked inside the Imperious. Harry saw the moment the spell was broken, the moment Snape cast the killing curse at Dumbledore – Draco's mission was fulfilled even if it hadn't been Draco doing the killing. Dumbledore was dead. Harry watched it happen again with a feeling of inevitability, as though it was something that was happening in a Muggle movie – Dumbledore was falling in silent slow motion – and then everything turned to chaos whereby the memory shifted.

Snape was dragging Draco towards the forest, and Harry noticed that the sky was still red as it always was in his dream, but overcast by the Dark Mark. "You have to leave, Draco, you have no choice, not now!" and Draco was shaking his head, tears streaming down his face as he kept trying to pull back from Snape's grip, his expression one of such desperate grief that Harry's heart broke again as he watched the events play out.

"I can't leave H-" Draco began, and Snape whirled around and clasped a hand over Draco's mouth, stilling their progress towards the forest.

"Quiet!" he hissed under his breath. "Do you want _them_ to hear you?"

Draco's frightened grey eyes trained on Snape as he shook his head, his breathing ragged.

"You will say _nothing_ about your relationship with Potter," he whispered. "I can't protect you if _he_ finds out the truth."

Draco licked his lips. "He'll come for me," he said, confidently, squaring his shoulders even as he voice wavered. "He promised that if anything happened he would find me-"

It was then that Harry made his first appearance in the memory, bursting into Draco's field of vision, hurtling towards him and Snape, all wild eyes and determination, but Snape hissed, "Run!" and Draco saw the others close behind Harry – unknown figures with one thing on their mind – to capture those who had killed Dumbledore.

Draco looked directly at Harry, then at the crowd behind him, and panicked, turning and running towards the edge of the anti-apparition wards, and Harry's voice was heard, "Draco!" and then raised voices between Harry and Snape causing Draco to turn again, in time to see Harry fall to the floor and cradle his head in his hands. Draco hesitated but Snape was upon him again, a hand on his wrist.

"Harry-" Draco protested, turning back again to look at where Harry was still slumped on his knees.

"Potter is merely stunned," Snape assured Draco. "Now – run!"

The vision faded and Harry and Draco were plummeted back to reality. Both of their faces were wet with tears as the collapsed back onto the sofa, clutching one another tightly. "I'd forgotten," Draco said softly. "Forgotten how out of control of myself I was – even after the Imperious broke, I let Severus take control of me. I panicked!"

Harry hung his head. "It was out of both our control." Seeing that memory back had been very emotive, but he had to remember that that was the past now. They couldn't dwell on it forever; they were free of it, together and happy.

They were a family.

"I'm not quite sure what we’re supposed to do now," Draco said sadly. "Other than, _never_ watch that again."

"I think what we're doing is just fine," said Harry, and Draco smiled softly; his head was on Harry's shoulder and he was curled into his side, Harry's arm wrapped around him with one hand absently stroking Draco's hair. "We can't change any of it; we have to look forwards now."

"I think I can live with that," Draco replied. "We can start off with finding a new place to live – one that's _ours_."

"Mmmmmhhm," Harry agreed, his eyelids drooping. He didn't care where they lived as long as he was with Draco and the children. They'd found each other again - despite all that had happened – fate had shoved them back together where they belonged.

Nothing else mattered.


End file.
